After Hours: Faberry Edition
by AgentNote
Summary: Similar to my Kurtana version of After Hours. Rachel finds Quinn in the library. Interrupting on her thoughts, secrets are revealed by both. Please read and review! Enjoy! ALTERNATE ENDING ADDED 9/6/11.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: The title is due to the fact that I wrote a story called After Hours involving Kurt and Santana. Since both took place after hours in McKinley High School, I figured maybe I'd make a series. So if anyone wants to see another pairing with a similar situation, let me know! Also, feel free to read my Kurtana version of After Hours. It was the original after all. ^.^ Please review! Enjoy!**

****Disclaimer: I don't own Glee. This story is unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine. ****

****Spoilers: Exist. I don't know the exact episodes, though. Sorry. ****

**Rating: T for...uh. There may be a bad word in here somewhere. If not, I still think it could be T. *Shrug***

****Note: Please check out my new forum, The Glee Prompt Forum, which you can find on my profile. Currently there is one challenge up. Check it out! You might have fun!****

"Quinn?"

I look up from my spot on the library floor to see one of the most beautiful girls I've ever laid eyes on. Cheesy, I know, but so true. She's wearing a purple and dark green colored plaid skirt and a tight white t-shirt that hugs her figure, showing off her curves. At the collar of her shirt a large, yellow ribbon is planted, tied neatly. Bright yellow tights adorn her petite legs, and her feet are covered with purple ballet flats. I'll admit, I secretly love her outfits; I think they're some of the most adorable combinations I've ever seen.

"Um," I stammer, my throat suddenly going dry. I start fidgeting and can feel a bead of sweat dripping down my neck. Has it always been this hot in the library? "Yes, Rachel. What's up?" My attempts to keep a sort of coolness about me are quickly dashed when I notice the brunette in front of me cocking her head to the side.

"Forgive me, Quinn, but are you…nervous?" She doesn't say it with any sarcasm or meanness; she's asking me a completely honest question.

"Uh…w-why would I be nervous?" I try my best to plaster on my HBIC face, but I'm sure it's weak. By the way she's smirking at me, I bet it looks like a constipated koala bear or something, not the usual bitchy, snarky, 'move out of the way or I'll send a jock to slushy you' Quinn Fabray.

Rachel shrugs in response, her slender shoulders rising and falling with ease. "I don't know. You just seem a bit off is all. Also, and please forgive me if I'm prying for too much information here, but why are here so late?"

I chuckle inside my mind. I love the cuteness of her run-on sentences. The way she adds way too many words to what could be such a simple sentence is one of probably five hundred things I love about her. Knowing I can't laugh aloud however, I quickly shove the erupting giggle away and focus on Rachel's questioning glare.

"I needed to clear my head."

"And so you chose the library?" She sounds shocked. I suppose I don't blame her. The library isn't one of the top places you'd find Quinn Fabray. That would be the football field, Cheerios locker room and, more recently than ever, the choir room. The library, though? A definite no. It's not that I don't study or read, I just have better things to do than study and read at _school_. I have a reputation to keep up after all, and so all my free time in school is spent slushying losers, geeks, and freaks, and making fun of…Rachel. God, really hate that I do that. I don't even know what started the endless bullying. Er, strike that. I guess I do. I just choose to ignore the sirens and Rachel-summoning thoughts that constantly run through my mind every second of every minute of every hour of every day.

I shrug, not something I would normally do in front of Rachel Berry. But today, for some odd reason, I'm feeling…defeated. There's no other way to put it. I've avoided my feelings for long enough; I guess I'm finally willing to face the music. A million and one thoughts buzz through my head like bees trying to find the best pollen. It would certainly clarify a lot to Rachel if I explained to her what's been going on for the past few years while I slushied her nonstop, drew pornographic pictures of her on the bathroom stall walls, called her every inappropriate name on the planet, and countless other things. But part of me can't do it. I know she deserves an explanation for my actions, but it would just mess everything up. Who's to say she wouldn't go blab to the entire school about my little secret? She certainly has a right to; the way I've treated her has warranted her that much. Knowing Rachel, though, I'm almost positive she wouldn't tell everyone. She's just not that kind of person. Looking past her sometimes (but cute) annoying attitude and goals to strive for anything and everything, Rachel has one of the biggest hearts I know. She sang that duet with Kurt when she knew he was lonely; she never, not once, tried to get back at me or Santana for being absolute bitches to her—except when she stole Finn from me, but that hardly counts because I did the same to her—and she comforted me when I needed a friend back when I was pregnant with Beth.

Yep. It's inevitable. I owe her big time.

"Listen, Rachel," I start, my nerves getting the better of me as I look anywhere but her face. Evidently, though, she doesn't hear me, rather she's too consumed with her own, endless thoughts.

"…not that I don't think you're not smart, Quinn. No. I would never imply such a thing. I'm just, well, frankly I'm surprised. I've never seen you in here once, in all three years of high school, and I don't think I've ever seen you read a book that wasn't mandatory for class. Also, I—"

"Rachel. Rachel!" Finally getting her attention, she looks down at me, her brown eyes dilating. I stare at her confused, but then realize. She's probably afraid I'm going to press a button that will cause angry jocks, bitchy cheerleaders, and cherry red slushies to fall from the ceiling directly to her.

"Sorry. I just needed to get your attention. You tend to go on sometimes." I try my best to say it in a lighter manner than before. The last thing I want to do right now is to scare her off. I may not like it, but I know I have to have this conversation with her today. It was a long time coming.

"It's fine," she says. I see her visibly relax. Good. I must have come off as less of a threat. "I suppose you're right. I do tend to drawl on and on sometimes. Then again, one of my earliest voice coaches told me that talking is good for the singing voice; it keeps you warmed up at all times, to some extent, so whenever there in an emergency need for performance, you're pretty much ready!"

I give her a look and without even saying anything, she understands.

"Right…sorry. I guess that's what everyone means when I say I talk to much, hm?" I laugh, loving her adorable pout.

"Yeah, Rachel. I'm afraid to say it, but that's exactly it. Also, you may want to try and shorten up your sentences a bit. Maybe Brittany will even understand you one day if you do," I joke lightly.

She smiles but immediately her expression turns confused.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" I ask.

"Well it's just…I don't think I've ever heard you call me 'Rachel.'"

"That's your name, isn't it?"

"Yes, but…I mean to say, it's usually RuPaul or Manhands or something of the like." I got to respond, knowing I need to apologize, but she cuts me off. "It's okay though. I like hearing my name come from you." She grins, and I melt at the warmth a simple smile from her can expel.

"About that Rachel, all the name calling I mean…I kind of have to talk to you about something, and that's kind of related to it. It's actually pretty perfect timing that you found me…I-I've been meaning to talk to you for a while now but never got around to it so it's good you're here. I mean, it's convenient and everything. Not that I wouldn't have tried to find you; I would have, really. I just—"

"Whoa. Calm down there, Quinn. Now who's doing all the talking?" I close my mouth shut and my face turns a slight shade of red in embarrassment. "It's okay, though," she adds, "I like it when you get flustered. I-It's cute."

My body continues to melt away, the skin peeling away layer by layer. Really, is it hot or is just me? And—wait a minute. Did she just used me and cute in the same thought? Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I do have a chance with her. Hah. Yeah right, Quinn. Think logically for a minute, why don't you. All you two have ever done in the long run is fight each other for the same guy over and over again. You, well you were only doing it because of one) denial and two) reputation. But Rachel? There's no way she would have gone to all that trouble to hide her true self. If there's one thing she's all for, it's being true to yourself. Because of that, her feelings Finn are definitely real and, as such, I have virtually no chance with her. Great. Why couldn't I have figured all that out BEFORE I went and told her I have to talk to her? Now I have to either make something up or tell her the truth. Ugh.

"So what do you want to talk about?" Her soft voice interrupts my thoughts and I whip my head skywards. Instead of meeting air though, I notice her face is mere inches from mine. She must have squatted down next to me when my mind was elsewhere. Perfect. Now I have to not only profess my love for her, but I have to do it while she's sitting across from me looking like the cutest girl that's ever walked McKinley High's halls.

"I, er, uh." Well this is going to be harder than I thought it'd be.

"Quinn," Rachel whispers, stifling giggles, "what in the world has gotten into you? You do know you're stammering in front of Rachel Berry, don't you? If the school finds out, you'll skyrocket from the top to the very bottom."

I freeze. She's right. She's totally, absolutely, positively one hundred percent correct. "Yeah, I know Manha—," I begin to snap. She cringes and I start again, softer this time. "Sorry. I mean, um, I know…Rachel. Which is why you can't tell anyone what I'm about to tell you. Really. Please don't. I won't blame you if you do, you have every right to want to get revenge on me, and what other way to do so than to use this against me."

"Hold on a second. Can we get caught up? You're already talking about revenge while I have no clue what you're even talking about. Care to share?"

I sigh, rubbing my temples. This is it. I'm about to bare my whole soul to Rachel Berry. I certainly never thought I'd ever be in this position before. If someone told me five years ago that I was fat and ugly and self-loathing because I was struggling with who I am, I would have never believed them. If someone also told me that, after settling in at McKinley, I became the biggest bitch to ever roam the halls because of Rachel? Well, no. I would not have believe any of those things. Not one.

"Rachel…I-I don't really know how to tell you this."

"Then start at the beginning. Ease yourself in. I'm not going to judge you, I hope you know that," she says pointedly, in all seriousness.

"Okay. You asked for it," I mumble under my breath. "I-I, um. I think I may be, uh. Here goes nothing. I'm gay."

I squeeze me eyes shut, waiting for the laughs, waiting for the burst out of the library to find anyone and everyone, waiting for her to whip out her phone and start texting every contact she has that Quinn Fabray, THE Quinn Fabray, just dropped the gay bomb on her. I even wait for what I think could be a strong, rare, but strong, punch. Like I said, I wouldn't blame her.

She opens her mouth. This is it.

"So?"

"I—" Wait. What was that you just said, Rachel?

"I said, 'so'?" Oops. Didn't realize I said that aloud.

"Um. You're not…I mean. What?"

Rachel chuckles, clearly amused at the fact that she made Quinn Fabray speechless. "Quinn, you do know you're talking to the daughter of two gay men, right?"

"I…yes. Yes I do realize that. But still…"

"I'll admit, I can't say I'm not surprised. No, that would be a lie. But still, I suppose I always had some sort of hunch. The way you are with Finn…it's always seemed to a bit too over-confident, if you know what I mean."

I digest this new information and then continue. "Are you mad?"

Rachel blinks rapidly, confusion written in her eyes. "Why would I be mad?"

"Because all I ever did was fight you for Finn. Face it, Rachel. We've wanted the same guy for years and I went to extremes to have him. And now you're finding out it was for no reason at all? You really aren't the least bit mad?"

The brunette in front of me stops for a moment, considering this newfound idea. Then, after what seems like forever, she answers. "No. I'm not mad. I assume the reason you wanted him so badly was because you were trying to deny yourself of who you are?"

Wow. Can she read my mind?

"Yeah…that's pretty much it. I also needed a football stud to keep up my reputation, you know? Without him…well, it wouldn't have been good. And you're right, too. I was definitely trying to ignore my feelings or whatever. I just…I couldn't be gay—I can't be gay. My mom is going to flip out when and if I ever tell her. She already had to deal with the pregnancy, how would she react when she finds out her youngest daughter likes girls?" I shudder at the thought, not wanting to think about what would happen at all.

"Isn't your mother more accepting of you now, Quinn? She kicked your father out, if I remember correctly. Hasn't she tried to be more supporting?"

I hesitate. This is true. But then again… "Yeah. That's true. But she's just recovering from having to help her then sixteen year old daughter go through labor. Throwing something as big as this onto the plate is just going to stress her out big time."

"Quinn. If she kicked your father out and allowed for you to move back in, she clearly loves you. Maybe she has had some issues in the past, but there's no way she'll kick you back out."

I sigh, some of the pent-up tension in my body releasing itself. This girl sure does know how to calm another down. I swear, her words are the most encouraging I've heard in a while now.

We sit in quiet for a few minutes, each of us drinking up the silence around us. It really is peaceful in school during the evening. No one's here; the lights are dim, the hallways are dark, there aren't any teachers yelling at students. It's definitely one of the calmest places I have in my life. I should remember to come here to think more often. Especially if Rachel is here this late. Yep. That's a definite motive. Speaking of Rachel…

"Rachel. Why are _you_ here so late?"

She blushes, clearly trying to hide something.

"Hey. I just told you stuff that I've never told anyone. I think you can tell me one measly thing." I say it lightly so she knows I'm just joking around, but now that she's looking away red-faced, I really want to know.

"It's kind of embarrassing," she says. I give her a look that tells her to continues, that shows her I won't judge her, even though the old-yet-not-so-old-straight Quinn would have jumped at the thought of humiliating her 'enemy' more than before, if possible.

"Well as you know, Miss Holiday's currently here and acting as the health and wellness teacher and, uh, sex education teacher again." I nod. Mr. Schue had invited her for a second time to teach us all about sex. He thinks he's being subtle, sneaking the lessons in with Glee club, but he's so not.

"Yeah. What about her?"

"Well…um." Rachel's face turns the brightest red I've ever seen it and it's hard for me to not laugh. Knowing I shouldn't though, I suppress all the chuckles in my throat and force myself to listen to her.

"I've been meaning to take the next step with Finn…if you know what I mean. I have no idea what to do and I can't exactly ask my fathers, just because one, it's weird, and two, it's a bit different. So I asked Miss Holiday if she could help me with some of the…details." She hangs her head and looks down at her feet, inspecting a slight fray in her yellow tights.

"Hey," I say, pulling her head up to look at me. "I think that's cute."

"You do?" She says, obviously shocked.

I shrug. "Yeah. I mean, you're going to all that trouble just to be with Finn." She smiles, as if she wanted my approval or something. "He's a lucky guy. Any guy that gets you will never realize how lucky he is," I add, whispering it more to myself than to her. Thankfully she doesn't hear me, or at least I don't think she does. Leaning in closer to me, I feel a tingle in my ear.

"You know what? Any girl who gets to have you will never realize how lucky she is, even if she slips on a ring and marries you."

What the…? Am I deaf? Or am I hearing things? Rachel Berry did NOT just produce that sentence in one of the most sexiest, flirtiest voices ever heard to man. Add the fact that she said it in an ear-tickling whisper, and you've got yourself a crazy, hot and bothered Quinn. In other words, the mess you see in front of you. Me.

"Um." It's all I can think of to say. My mind is a puddle of melted mush, and I'm not thinking clearly by any means. That said, the only thing I can think of to do is the following: I kiss her. I lean in to those luscious lips I've only ever dreamt of tasting and kiss her like mad. It's the most exhilarating feeling I've ever experienced. It makes me wonder: Why did I ever even try dating guys? If I had known this was what being with a girl was like, I wouldn't have even _tried _to hide my true self by dating them.

Feeling Rachel move, I assume she's reciprocating the kiss and I begin to scoot in closer. Before I can, though, she's pulling away, an aghast look donned by that pretty face of hers.

"Quinn…what…why did you do that?"

I can say nothing. I open my mouth to talk, but nothing comes out. Finally, after a few tries at tangible sentences and coherent words, I form a sentence. "I just thought…I mean. You seemed to like it." It's weak and I know it. It's not much of a rebuttal either, but it's the best my squishy mind can muster at the moment. Before she can say another word, I breathe out what's been on my mind for our whole conversation and the past entirety of our high school career.

"I love you, Rachel."

**Note: I obviously plan on making this at least two-shot-I can't leave you all hanging!-but I may make it more. If you'd want it to be either a three-shot or multi-chapter, let me know. Okay. Please review and thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks to all who alerted/favorited and special thanks to my anon reviewer, R. I don't know if you're reading this, but your review means the world to me. I know this chapter may not be what all of you wanted, but please enjoy it anyways!**

**Disclaimer: Glee is not mine. This is unbeta'd so all mistakes belong to me.**

****Note: Please check out my new forum, The Glee Prompt Forum, which you can find on my profile. Currently there is one challenge up. Check it out! You might have fun!****

* * *

><p>"I love you, Rachel."<p>

I hold my breath, knowing that there would have been a million and one ways better to break that piece of news that's been gnawing at me like a termite chews a log. I'm afraid to look at her, but I know I have to. Glancing upwards from where my eyes have been trained on the ground, I catch her frozen face. She's not showing any emotion, nothing at all, and honestly, it's kind of freaking me out. Knowing I have to say something before she tries to run away or worse, I gently speak up.

"Rachel? Are you okay?"

Finally, she manages to stammer, "How can you ask me if I'm okay, Quinn? You tell me you love me, you kiss me for crying out loud, and you have the audacity to ask if I'm _okay_?"

I cringe, knowing I deserve her biting tone, but not making the pain any less. It's true. Asking her if she's okay probably wasn't the best of questions. But what else am I supposed to say? 'Oh, by the way Rachel, do you think you could love me back and, if yes, how about you dump that loser oaf you call a boyfriend so we can get some of our own magic on'. Hah. Yeah right. Like that would ever happen. No way.

"I'm sorry. Oh God…I probably just messed everything up. Listen, I'll just…I'll just go, alright? I'm really sorry about all of this Rachel. I won't blame you if you never wanna talk to me again, see me again, or try to get some awful revenge on me. You deserve everything. I've had it coming. So…yeah. I'll just…" With that, I'm off of the library floor faster than she can even comprehend what I just said. I make a beeline for the double doors but am stopped by a firm yet gentle grasp on my left wrist.

"What are you…?" I begin to ask, trying to tug myself free of her grip. She's having none of it, though, and pulls me back to a sitting position, right next to her this time rather than across from her.

"I never said you should go, Quinn. Believe it or not, I'm not mad at you. You're confused, I understand that." Her tone is soothing, and before I know it, I'm sobbing into her shoulders, heaving cries and tears of years of pent-up frustration, denial, and raw anger. I hate breaking down in front of people, and I especially hate breaking down in front of her. I never intended to tell her of my feelings for her. I just figured I'd tell her part of my time-consuming thoughts—the me being gay part—and then we could go on and be friends, forgetting everything that happened in the past and blaming it on my attempts of figuring my sexuality out.

"But why aren't you mad?" I blubber, tears still pouring down my face, streaking down my Cheerios uniform and her shirt. "I j-just kissed you. You h-have every right to be mad, yet here you a-are, calm as ever."

Rachel reveals a sad smile, her heart clearly breaking at the mess in front of her. "Quinn. I can't control people's feelings. I can't help that you love me and, as such, I can't get mad at you. You can't help who you fall in love with. Think of it this way, I'm dating Finn. You're not mad at me that I'm with him, though, are you? Sure," she adds quickly when noticing the slight darkening of my pupils, "you may not be _happy_ that I'm with him, but you're not really mad, are you?"

I go to answer but pause for a moment. She's right. She's always so right. I'm not mad at her. I do love her, and because of that, all I really want for her is to be happy. I can't get mad at her for liking someone. That would be totally hypocritical. And she's totally correct: You can't help who you fall in love with. If you could, do you really think I would have chosen Rachel as my first true love?

"No," I finally manage to reply, "I'm not mad. I'm just…it hurts so much seeing you two together when I know there's nothing I can do about it…"

I leave my statement with an open ending, hoping, praying, that she might correct me. All I want her to do is to tell me it was all a lie—her dating Finn; that she's really been in love with me the whole time, but too afraid to admit it. Well you know what? Pigs would sooner fly than that happening. Still though, all these little hints, the subtle flirting she's concocted in the past hour we've been in the library together, was it all for naught? She must have had some reason; why else would she flirt with a girl, a girl who happens to be her arch-nemeses?

"I know I've probably confused you, Quinn. I probably still _am_ confusing you." At my puzzled expression, she changes her train of thought. "I should start over. When I was younger, my fathers told me that when something bad happened, I'd get extremely nervous. To this day that is still true. I guess I've gotten more touchy-feeling over the years. I just don't know how to deal with things like, well, as an example, things like this." She gestures around her, indicating that she's talking about my coming out to her.

"What are you talking about, Rachel? You're great at helping people. You've helped so many, me included. I mean this right now; you've helped me to understand more about myself than I've ever even figured out."

She blushes. "I'm glad I can be of help, Quinn. But you must understand that I'm not nearly as confident on the inside as I am on the outside. I constantly fight to make it look like I am, so I don't get bullied more than I already do. On the inside though, it's just sometimes too much to handle." She whispers her response, perhaps in fear of me losing it. I am the one who initiated most of the bullying, after all.

"Oh, Rachel." I pull her into a hug and rub circles over her back. "I never meant for you to feel scared. I'm so sorry I ever did anything to you. I know it's not much of an excuse, but I bet you now know why I did it."

She pulls back, wiping tears from my eyes and a few stray ones from hers as well. "Because you love me."

Great. We're back to that again. No ignoring it now, I have to get this talk out of the way.

"Yes…I…I love you, Rachel."

"Quinn," she starts, wringing her hands together in nervousness, "I'm so sorry, but I…I'm not gay. It's not possible for me to feel the same way. I'm in love with Finn."

My heart breaks; I knew all of these things before of course, but hearing her voice them aloud—it just makes the pain even worse.

"I know. I do. I've just been trying to ignore all the warnings in my head."

"I really am sorry, Quinn. You have to know; if I was interested in girls, you'd definitely be the first I'd check out." Her face turns red and she looks away.

"Really?" I ask, shocked.

"Of course," she counters, looking back at me. "I've told you before; you're very pretty Quinn. One of the prettiest girls I've ever met. There's no denying that."

I don't know what to say, so I mumble out a grateful 'thanks'. We continue sitting like that for a few minutes, when I decided on saying more.

"Rachel. Just so you know, I am happy for you. That you have Finn, I mean. You two are clearly happy together and you deserve to be happy."

"Thank you, that means more to me than you'll ever know," she says, a genuine happiness gleaming in those beautiful eyes of hers. "And for the record, you're going to meet someone too, one day. You'll be as happy as me. You'll forget all about me and fall hopelessly in love with someone who, no doubt, will love you back with equal or more of an intensity." She says it jokingly, but I detect a glimpse of disappointment.

"I'm never going to forget about you, Rachel. There's always going to be a place for you somewhere in my heart." I know it's cheesy, but every word of it is the truth. "You never stop loving your first love. I may fall _out _of love with you, but I'll never stop loving you."

"That's understandable," she agrees with a nod. "I'm probably not going to make it with Finn in the long run; I _am _going to be a star on Broadway someday and who knows if he'll want to come with me." I smile at her dreams, her determination of getting out of this town. I know it'll happen; she's the most talented singer I've ever met.

"But," she continues, "you're right. I'm always going to love him."

I pick at the spine of a book next to me, the plastic of the book cover peeling off in every direction. Poor books. They're never taken care of to the extent that they should be. Another thought crossing my mind, I share it.

"We can still be friends, right? I don't want this to cost us our friendship."

She looks shocked and I look at her funny. Why was that such an odd question?

"I didn't realize you considered us to be friends, Quinn," Rachel admits. At first I'm stunned, but then I remember what I've done to her in the past and I can see how she'd think that.

"Well I think we can be. We're both in Glee club, and everyone in there is friends with everyone. We may fight and argue, but we're still all friends, Rachel."

She bows her head sullenly. "Everyone in there seems to hate me. They yell at me for being a solo-hog, they say I have too many aspirations for a normal seventeen year old, and they constantly belittle me."

"Hey there," I encourage, "they're just jealous that you're gonna get out of here one day and they're not. I know it and I know you know it that you're the best singer in there. The rest of them are just too afraid to admit it in fear of Rachel Berry being better than them at something." I give her a reassuring smile and she returns it, all of her thanks etched into her face.

"Well then, in that case, of course we can still be friends. I'm not going to treat you any differently just because you're gay. And so you love me. Big deal. Honestly, I'm flattered that such an amazing girl such as yourself would take interest in me."

"Um. You're welcome I think? But thanks. That means a lot, more than you know." I can't remember the last time I've been this vulnerable to anyone. Not even my Brittany and Santana—back when we were the closest of best friends—saw me like this.

"And like I said," Rachel continues, "you're going to meet some girl one day who's going to love you so much, you'll have a hard time believing it yourself."

"Is that how you feel when you're with Finn?" I ask her. I know Finn's had some issues in the past with loyalty to girlfriends, but it's so obvious he is one-hundred and ten percent in love with his current brunette girlfriend.

"Yes. I love him and I know he loves me just the same. And that's how I know you'll find someone, Quinn. It's not impossible and if it's happened to me, it'll definitely happen to you."

I don't say anything; I'm too numb with joy, sadness, love, thanks, and a whole bunch of other stuff to respond. Like I said, she knows exactly how to comfort a girl. I don't know what I did to earn her friendship, but whatever it is, I'll be sure to thank God in my prayers for the rest of my life. Even if she doesn't love me back, I know that this conversation has delivered to me one of the best friends I'll ever have. Maybe exposing myself and my true feelings every now and then isn't too bad of an idea. It's clearly brought me closer to Rachel, and for that I am thankful.

Before I realize what's happening, her tiny frame is engulfing me in one of the biggest, tightest hugs I've ever received. I know we're both thinking it: that everything could go back to normal tomorrow. I could threaten to slushy her every day for the rest of high school if she reveals my secrets. I could send my army of cheerleaders after her to throw every name that's out there at her. But I know I won't. And I know she knows I won't, either. This kind of friendship, it has a name. It's love. And even though she's not _in_ love with me, I know that she still loves me, and I don't think I could ask for anything better.

**Note: I am marking this story complete. HOWEVER: I know this may not be the kind of Faberry story you were expecting. Some of you may want some Quinn/Rachel lovin' and, if so, drop a review or PM me to let me know. I will gladly write another chapter with an alternate ending. Thanks for reading and please review!**


	3. Alternate Ending

**A/N: This is the alternate ending to chapter one of this story. I wanted to give the reviewers who wanted a happy ending something to read. So to all of those reviewers, I hope that this was the Faberry lovin' you were looking for! Please review and enjoy. :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee. This is unbeta'd so any mistakes are mine.**

* * *

><p>"I love you, Rachel."<p>

I hold my breath and wait eagerly for her response. I steal a glance at her face and notice nothing but shock. Her eyes are wide. Oh God. I knew this wasn't a good idea. Why did I have to tell her? Why couldn't my mind shut up for one minute and first think about the consequences. She's going to hate me! I can so tell. Wow, Quinn. You finally manage to build a bridge of friendship with her and now you've scared her off. Great.

"Feel free to say anything anytime, Rachel," I quip anxiously. Her voice is still stunned, but her eyes have shrunk considerably. That's got to be a good sign…right?

Finally, a cough erupts from her throat. "A-are you sure about that, Quinn? I mean…me? Th-there must be some other girl you mean."

"Uhm. No. Sorry, Rachel, but I do mean you. I did just kiss you, after all." Expecting my face to go flush with embarrassment, I lower my head. I must not be red at all, though, because Rachel tips my head upwards, landing my face squarely in front of hers. I gulp, the close proximity making me sweaty and nervous.

"Yes, you did just kiss me. And let me assure you, Quinn, you have nothing to be embarrassed about. I always had a feeling, and now it's confirmed. You are a wonderful kisser." She doesn't look away from my face. She just stays there with my chin grasped in her hand. That's Rachel Berry for you. So open to talking about anything. No shame. Nothing at all.

"Uhhh…thanks…I think?"

"You're quite welcome," she says confidently. She finally lets go of my chin and leans back against the bookcase. I do the same, sighing. Half of me is content, like, really happy. I just kissed the love of my life and she didn't push my away. She doesn't hate me. That's always a good thing. Then again though, she never said she was in love with me either. Why does she have to be so confusing? She has the nerve to sit here and flirt with me but doesn't even respond to my stupid proclamation of love?

"So can you just say it already?" I spit out, my tone sounding with a bite of harshness.

She flinches backwards, hitting her head on a copy of "The History of Broadway". Ironic. Did my mind float to this section of the library consciously? Maybe it knew it was a Rachel kind of section. Wow. I am way more in love with her than I thought. I'm doing things that are related to her without even knowing it.

"Say what?" she demands, not threatened at all by the venom in my voice.

"That you don't love me back! That you never want to talk to me again! That any progress we made today towards becoming friends is gone. Dead. Never again will exist. Just say it now so I can get out of here!" I'm practically screaming in her face and tears are streaming down my face, making my mascara into a black, blobby mess.

"Quinn! How dare you accuse me of—" Before she can get her word in I'm cutting into her sentence.

"No! Just stop, please. Just tell me." I whisper it, knowing it will be too hard to voice aloud. It's hard enough asking her to tell me she doesn't love me back.

Rachel just blinks, leaning against the tall shelves and sighing. "Quinn," she starts again. This time I don't interrupt her.

"I don't know how to say this, but…um."

"Save it," I snap. She recoils as if her hand's just hit a hot stove burner but, for some reason, moves even closer once she's recovered herself.

"No, Quinn. I'm not going to 'save it', as you so nicely put it." She smirks and leans towards me so our faces are centimeters apart. "I'm going to do something that I think will make you _quite _happy."

Before I know what's happening, she's kissing me. Her lips meet mine in one of the tenderest kisses I've ever received. Wait a min—she's _kissing _me? I feel her tongue like my bottom lip, begging for entry. Parting my lips the slightest of bits, she takes advantage of the new passageway and plunges her tongue in, massing it with mine. I moan, ever so lost in the sensations she's creating.

"Rachel, Ra—guhh…" My attempts at creating a tangible sentence are dashed as she turns and straddles my waist. She's getting more aggressive; she nips at my bottom lip and I groan in pleasure. Who knew this girl could kiss so well? Finn never was like this. And to think. I actually considered myself to be straight at some point in my life.

"Rachel, Rachel. Really…we…we should t-talk." I hastily pull away from that beautiful face of hers. My breaths are labored and hers are as well. She gets off my legs and moves so she's sitting next to me once again.

"Now do you see why I'm not telling you I don't love you back?"

"But…I'm…so you _do_ love me?"

Rachel pauses, seemingly pondering this. I hunch back miserably, trying to blend in with the tattered books and splintered bookshelves. I knew it was too good to be true. She probably just kissed me because she felt bad. Exactly. Oh great. It was a pity kiss. Quinn, pay attention; you're going to miss what she says.

"No, I don't _love _you."

All of a sudden my breath seems to be squeezed out of my lungs. I'm finding it difficult to breath and there's a knot-like type pain in my chest. I assume it's what's formerly been called heartbreak.

"I knew it," I mumble. With that I'm standing, straining my eyes to find the doors as it's considerably darker now.

"_But_," Rachel starts. She pulls me back down and doesn't let go of my hand. "That doesn't mean I don't _like_ you."

"I—wait. What?"

She blushes and starts playing with the tips of my fingers, gradually kneading my hands in hers. I try to ignore the aching sensation from you know where and my mind's screeching screams to kiss her again.

"I've always found you pretty, Quinn. I've told you that."

"B-but you're not gay?" I ask it more as a question than a statement, needing to know the truth.

"True…but I'm not exactly straight either." She just shrugs it off and continues on a new thought. "Who knows, though? I mean, I definitely enjoy when I'm with you…and maybe, in time, I can come to love you, too."

Hold up there, Rachel. You're already talking about loving me back? Sure I'm happy. I mean, this is what I've dreamt about ever since I met her. But still…

"Wait up, Rachel. I'm flattered and everything and you have no idea how excited I am right now…but…but you're still with Finn. As much as I love you and as much as I don't like Finn right now, you're still dating him and you can't cheat. It wouldn't be fair."

"Well in case you haven't noticed, Quinn. I already _have_ cheated. Or, did we _not_ just kiss twice?" She says it devilishly, with a twinkling smirk in her eyes. Oh God, she's going to be the death of me.

"True. But it's not right for you to keep kissing me. You have to either call it off with him or…or we can't be together." I cringe, my heart seeming to break all over again. She has no idea how painful it is for me to say it, but I know I have to. "For as much as I love you, that's as much I want you to be happy. And if you're happy with Finn, then great. If you're not, that's even better. But I'm not going to steal you away from him. I've learned that through all of this glee club drama: Stealing boyfriends slash girlfriends doesn't result in anything good."

She sheepishly nods. That's for sure. Everyone one of us glee clubers have, at one point or another, cheated on him, stole her guy, blah, blah, blah.

"That is quite a valid point, Quinn and, as such, I plan to break up with Finn tomorrow."

Wow. I wasn't expecting _that_.

"A-are you sure?"

"Are you?" she counters. I nod quickly, like a child would when offered a cookie. She grins at my innocence and I'm tempted to lean in and kiss her again.

"You can, you know," she whispers, knowing exactly what I want.

I want to. I really want to. But…I can't. "Rachel. I can't. I'm sorry. Not until tomorrow, when you're officially broken up with Finn. For now, it's still cheating."

Rachel sits, stunned, as if her ears are deceiving her. "Wow," she finally says, "you're such an amazing person, you know that?"

"I wouldn't call myself amazing, Rachel. That's you."

She quickly waves the comment away, as if it's one of the most ridiculous things she's ever heard. "Quinn. I'm talented. Sure, there's no denying that. But you…you're kind. You think about others feelings."

I laugh internally at her confidence. My smile fades though when I realize the other thing she said. "You really think I'm kind?" I chuckle coldly. "Don't forget that not only a year ago I was the bitchy cheerleader slushying you, calling you names. I aided Puck in throwing Kurt in dumpsters. I'm not kind at all."

"Hey there," she says, tilting my chin up so our eyes are level. "You are one of the kindest people I know. Ever since you joined glee club you've been way more true to other people and yourself. You _do_ care about other people, Quinn. Whether you're going to admit it or not, you've changed. Tomorrow, after this little conversation of ours, you could go back to being that cold-hearted cheerleader. But I'm nearly one hundred percent sure that's something you're _not_ going to do. Am I correct?"

…Have I ever mentioned that it seems like she can read my mind?

"Y-yes. You're correct."

We sit in a comfortable silence for a few minutes when, out of the blue, Rachel pipes up.

"So…one more kiss? Pretty please with a gold star on top? It'd just be to tide me over to tomorrow, you know. Just to hold me out until the break-up tomorrow."

"Rachel," I playfully scold.

She huffs but relents. "Fine. Can I at least hug you?"

I laugh. "That I can do, Berry. That I can do."

I engulf her tiny frame into my arms. We stay like that for what feels like hours. I eventually pull back but don't let go of her. My right hand is intertwined with her left. My left is playing with a lose bunch of hairs falling from her beautiful, brown locks. She's right. I _could_ go back to being a bitch to her and everyone else. But what she didn't say but I'm aware of is that she could run back to Finn and never come back to me. She could follow Miss Holiday's (no doubt) detailed advice and take the big loser's virginity. Except for some reason, some nagging thought in the back of my head is telling me that none of those things are going to happen. Because for me to have her, I have to hold up my end of the bargain. And for her to have me, she's got to do the same. And so no, I don't think either of us will be going anywhere soon at all.

**Note: Hope ya'll liked it! Also, if anyone wants another fic in my 'After Hours' series, shoot me a review or PM with the desired characters. Thanks for reading and don't forget to review!**


End file.
